Shade of the Forgotten
by lycoris-nuri
Summary: Hogwarts has a new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher... I wonder how long this one will last-Based after OotP-
1. Wolf in the School

**Disclaimer:** The wizarding world is based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling, I do not own most the characters, obviously. However, if you do not recognize the name from the books either your memory is lacking or it is an original and thus mine.

* * *

The air was scented faintly of ancient blood, dried and flecked into the grains of sand, dug into crevices of impenetrable granite. The presence was undeniable to the wolf as it paced around the stones, sniffing, eyes drifting up the night, catching the moon in its interloping from flecked cloud to cloud. A snarl rose in its throat as the winds shifted, bringing voices, smells. 

"And why should we trust him?" came a voice, timid, suspicious. "Didn't even have the loyalty to take the dark mark."

"Wormtail, you fool," hissed another voice, this one snide and full of contempt, "our Dark Lord has other means than the mark to control his servants."

The wolf snarled, stretching its legs as it continued pacing, feeling the wind drift again and taking in the air of silence from another direction. The woods about were quiet; nature itself abhorred the presence of these men, debating the worth of the one who had just left their midst.

It was, perhaps, the sort of thing a proper animagus should bring straight to the attention of the Ministry, but no. There were too many things needed to explain this particular wolf's presence here. It snorted out dust before loping back into the forest, contemplating on what it had heard.

Once in the forest it was little more than a shadow, deepening others as it passed. Its fur was almost pure black, though its underside had white patches, and there were flecks of white about its snout. When light hit them its narrowed eyes glittered an odd colorless silver rather than the almost standard gold or bronze.

Morning was dawning by the time it had stopped, sitting on its haunches and panting softly. A town was relatively nearby and the area was starting to reek of people. In a moment, as wolfish eyes narrowed, it shifted, the human figure taking its place no less dark. A hood was brought about a pale face, shadowing most features, the cloak hanging loosely about an indistinct form.

Taran stood slowly, craning its neck to either side fingers from neck up the hidden jaw line and into hair with enough length that it showed despite the cloak, raven black without a hint of brown blemishing it, its only highlights in shades of blue. The silver eyes remained, filled with concern over one thing. No matter what came, all it knew was that the water it was treading was deep, and no matter what spells it could call forth on a moment's notice, it would do no good without sufficient caution.

Taran would have to be very careful from this point on...very...careful.

o-o-0-o-o

The school grounds were eerily quiet without the presence of the students. Taran was, perhaps just a bit nervous as it drew the cloak more tightly about itself. Eyes shifting from hallway to hallway it made its way forward, stopping in front of the gargoyle in resident guard of the headmaster's office, or at least, what others called such. Technically it was a grotesque, since gargoyle, derived from the same root as gargle, only applied to the stone figures that helped with drainage outside a castle. Not that Taran was about to point out the long standing idiosyncrasy now. "Skiving Snackbox," it said, voice clear and carrying, despite that it scarce capped a whisper, holding to it the airy quality of a forced hiss. What an interesting password for the headmaster of a school to be utilizing.

As the entrance revealed itself behind the grotesque Taran slid forward, moving slowly up the stairs before pausing at the final door to the headmaster's office. Straightening up just a bit it cleared its throat before giving a solid knock on the wooden door.

"Come in, come in," came the cheerful reply, before Taran had even had a chance to pull the hand back for a second knock.

Forehead wrinkling slightly, Taran opened the door, stepping into the room, eyes sliding from portrait to portrait before resting on Dumbledore. The aged wizard before him scarce fit the image of the one man Voldemort feared, he showed wisdom, yes, and there was perhaps power lurking somewhere, but foremost he seemed almost mad, if madness it could be called. A curious man, but then, he'd have to be, to even consider hiring Taran as a professor.

"Well, well, Taran Dilerd, please, have a seat, and don't bother keeping up your cowl, I can assure you it is quite unnecessary."

"I prefer it," Taran almost growled while taking the offered seat, watching the headmaster with sharp eyes.

Dumbledore was grinning at it, shaking his bearded head softly, in amusement perhaps. "Suit yourself, Professor, yes, I said Professor, because I've decided from what I've seen of your qualifications that you are, in fact, suited to teach our Defense Against Dark Arts class. Severus feared that by hiring you I'd be...how did he put it, letting the wolf loose amidst the sheep... but I have complete faith that you are the err...person for the job."

Taran's fists clenched ever so slightly at the wolf comment, though beyond that its reaction was kept to a minimal. It wasn't an easy thing, keeping straight-faced at the curiosity if Dumbledore-and the named professor-knew it was an unregistered animagus. However if they did, it seemed they had decided to keep quiet about it, something that eased Taran's mind some, considering this was perhaps its greatest secret.

"You...are going to accept...aren't you?" questioned Dumbledore after a long pause, seeming far less curious about what the answer would be and more about when it would come.

Taran fought back a wince that was scarce visible beneath its hood anyway. It had zoned out a bit in thought. If the headmaster had been seeking to know the truth to the implications, he would have it there. Taran grinned and gave a sharp nod as first acknowledgement, despite knowing that it would barely be notable, a mere shift in the fabric of the cowl. "Of course I accept, headmaster, it would be a privilege to help this fine school in preparing its pupils to deal with what lies ahead."

"Very good then," replied Dumbledore, something about his voice implying a...knowledge of Taran's sincerity. "You can find your room on your own I trust?"

The man was unnerving, unnerving in that for all his seeming honesty and overall simplicity, there was a great deal that lay hidden. It was enough to make Taran a bit uncomfortable. Perhaps Taran wasn't ready for this yet, but it was now or never; there was no choice but to continue. Taking this last question as a dismissal Taran stood, giving a simple, succinct nod, "I'm sure I can manage, thank you for opening the position to me."

With that it swiveled on its heel and made way back down the stairs and too its own room, curious what sort of impression it had made. This was its first teaching position, all its blunders could be chalked up to nerves, hopefully that was all it would be taken as. Taran shook it all off and breathed deeply in; so far so bad, but so long as it kept nerves to the background things could hardly go worse.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Be forgiving of 'it' usage in reference to a person, however Taran is making a point of not telling anyone (even me!) a gender, so alas, I've had to manage. The main reason I went with 'it' was because though awkward seeming for a person, it worked fine when said person was a wolf, so I figured with some adaptation it would work. This is an interesting story for me in that it is my deep preference to only work with characters of my own creation rather than another author's for fear of maulization. However with this story's main as a teacher at Hogwarts I'm going to be deeply entangling my writing in the lives of Rowling's characters, likely throughout the whole of this fan-fiction. Be forgiving...please... 

I'd rather like to know what people think of this, and of Taran, conspiracy theories, minor observations, etc. It would amuse me deeply. ;)


	2. Enter the Sheep

Diagon Alley, the place for all things magical. Taran had to restrain from a bit of a snort at that thought, eyes skimming the place. This would likely prove an interesting endeavor in that now would provide first time meetings with students. The books students received via post would hardly suffice for its purpose.

Already Taran carried several books underarm, many of them acquired in Knockturn Alley and of questionable nature. It was but a start. Now, however, it was time for some measure of leisure, spent outside a prank shop, making mental notes of younger faces or slipped names as people came out of it. These, no doubt, would be an incurable source of trouble once the school year began.

Not that Taran was entirely worthy of judging, having purchased a fair quantity of Skiving Snackboxes. The poor fool that tried to use one in Defense Against Dark Arts was almost to be pitied, for if the cure half worked a detention would surely follow. It was enough to make any teacher grin, at least any teacher with some measure of sadism.

Taran pushed from the wall it had been leaning against, wondering what people must be thinking. It shrugged off the thought however, pulling hood forward a bit more before sidling into the crowd in the street. There were still other books to buy for the classes, and it probably had enough names and faces to start with.

Chances were it didn't need any really, just having lingered there a while, catching one student would be enough to spread word all around school. The students who had seen Taran would remember. It was not exactly the sort of person that blended into a crowd.

Taran continued watching the faces in the crowd, bemusedly noting shifts in expressions as eyes came to rest on it. Fear could be noted, though not as much as if it ever decided to go for a stroll through a Muggle community. Mind you, the temptation for that was always there, but somehow it had the feeling the Ministry might shake a finger at that particular sort of behavior.

It took a moment for Taran's thoughts to scatter enough for it to note who it had just passed. Turning back it narrowed its eyes slightly, holding in them the figure of a teen in loose fitting Muggle clothing with unruly black hair that couldn't seem to pick a direction. Harry Potter, perhaps the most famous wizard in the world, other than perhaps the Dark Lord or Dumbledore.

Did he know, Taran wondered, that he was targeted, even in the relative safety of Diagon Alley. Of course, how could the boy know? None of those that whispered his name in hatred dared touch him now, not when their master had other plans. Other plans indeed, Taran shook its head, all it could do was be careful.

"Well, well," came a voice, pulling Taran instantly from thought, "that's an...interesting selection of books you have there Professor." The voice was thick with contempt and sarcasm.

Taran turned to meet the man, grin impish, though scarce seen, eyes glittering out icily from beneath the cowl. "I thought so," was the snarled reply, holding no real tone. "It's my belief the N.E.W.T. level students might benefit from some...supervised reading, just to get a glimpse what they might face."

"Or do?"

Taran's eyes narrowed to a glare beneath the cowl, "Professor Snape, whatever you might be implying, this seems hardly an ideal place. I can assure you my chief goal in these is to prepare the students to fight," it paused, stopping short of saying the dark lord's name in public where it would bring sudden and complete attention to the pair, "He-who-must-not be-named," it finally growled, rolling its eyes as it did so, "and his allies."

"Of course," snarled Snape, seeming to Taran, by no means through with this. However, for now he did abate and turning on his heel he stalked off, leaving only his back for Taran to glare at.

Now, Taran could hardly be surprised by this little confrontation, constantly hiding beneath a hood had a tendency to blemish ones reputation. However it had not expected one of this nature before even reaching the school. What it had been expecting was something making mention of a wolf. However, with the books it was carrying it guessed that opened the door for this sort of confrontation a bit more so than one involving wolves.

Taran could only shrug then, deciding that it wasn't worth dwelling on. It didn't need to turn back to know that Harry Potter was likely lost to the crowd, though it suspected Snape's voice may have brought the boy's attention to their little...conversation. It couldn't help but wonder if it would receive any trust from the students after that, or on opposite note-considering the avid dislike of Snape among the student body-perhaps that would boost Taran's reputation among them.

Books, Taran needed to buy books, it could focus on what the students thought later, either on the Hogwarts Express, if it chose to take it with them, or at the school.

o-o-0-o-o

Harry panted when he reached the Hogwarts Express, staring down at his trunk for a moment as both Ron and Hermione came through the platform barrier behind him, panting similarly. Crookshanks had seen fit to escape on the Muggle end of the platform and led them on a merry chase. Harry was glad Hermione had caught him, he didn't trust himself not to kill that cat if he got a hold of it right now.

He loaded his trunk onto the train, finding a compartment without anyone in it yet for the three of them, not doubting they'd be joined by Neville and likely others before the train started moving. He made a mental note to thank Hermione for insisting on coming early, after he throttled her cat that was.

"Your stupid cat is always causing trouble," muttered Ron as he dropped down into the seat to resume panting.

Hermione huffed, dropping down herself, right beside Ron. "Oh, and Pig is always so much more well behaved." She shook her head, about as into the argument as Ron, which at the moment, was not very much.

In fact, it stopped rather abruptly there, the only sound in the compartment slightly more heavy breathing until each of them had caught their breath.

"Harry, you said you saw the new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher in Diagon Alley," began Hermione, breaking the silence, slightly more serious now, "what were they like?"

Harry shrugged slightly, "I didn't actually meet him, just heard Snape confront him."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Just like Snape, he's always had it in for people who snatch that job up from under him."

"I'm not entirely sure that's the case this time Ron, he seemed to be going to great lengths to conceal just about everything about himself, appearance, voice." Harry paused then, absently running a finger along his scar.

Ron's forehead furrowed slightly as he looked at Harry with slightly wider eyes, somewhere between stunned and suspicious. "Do you think they might work for you-know-" he was cut off.

"Come on Ron, surely you can just say Voldemort by now," snapped Hermione, rolling her eyes a bit before continuing. "Besides, after two separate instances of teachers working for the wrong side, surely Dumbledore would be more careful selecting, right?"

Harry just fell silent-caught up in a train of thoughts-somehow he wasn't so sure, and it was obvious neither of the others were either. He looked out the window, watching other students loading onto the train, eyes drifting through the crowd without.

"I wonder if we should have been more careful getting onto the train, " muttered Harry in hindsight, a dark cloud falling utterly over him as with half a mind he focused on Sirius. His eyes had ceased catching anything outside, now focusing somewhere beyond all sight. "I mean, what if Voldemort had stationed Death Eaters on the platform. We were so busy chasing Crookshanks that we could have run right into one and not known it."

"Crookshanks is intelligent enough that I don't think he would have done that if he thought there were any danger," she said softly, trying to reassure him. "And nothing did happen," she mused after the silence went unbroken for an extended and sluggish moment. She smiled in an attempt at reassurance, but it was a bit feeble. Whether she acknowledged it or not, the possibility had been there.

"Right," mumbled Ron, sounding slightly exasperated, "we're fine. Nothing happened and we got to have a little bit of fun," he paused for a moment to focus a glare on the cat, "And suddenly that's a crime? Lighten up a bit alright?"

Harry's fists were clenched as he continued looking out the window, forcing himself to breathe and calm down. He did not want to snap at Ron, not when he was right especially. He gave a forced bit of a nod before he managed to relax. "Yeah, your right, sorry," he mumbled, not exactly sounding it, but at least he wasn't snapping at his friend.

They fell into a heavy silence, grateful when others came in to break it, a glaring Ginny among them. They had accidentally lost the Weasleys somewhere in the train station during the chase and Ginny was incensed that she had spent all this time looking for them while they'd been sitting on the train.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Well... chapter two... yeey...meh. I know dealing with 'it' seems to not be working as well, I think it was easier to deal with in the first chapter due to the wolf to person transition. I'm hoping eventualy it can be gotten used to though. Anyway that is all. ;) 


	3. All Downhill From Here

Taran watched the students filtering into the great hall, keeping track of as many as possible as each took seat at their individual tables. It could tangibly feel the glare from the potions master, but decided to ignore the man for the time being. Except, well, it was impossible to not be amused, really. Taran's grin went a bit feral in the shadows of the hood. It was only a matter of time before Snape's next confrontation. The man was probably only waiting now on a lack of audience so that Taran would not have an excuse to weasel out of it.

It had to have been so disappointing for him last time, cornering his prey, only to have it duck out of his way. No, that would not happen again, not that Taran minded. It was curious and that might answer a few questions, but it would also be most problematic if done in public.

Taran brought its attention back to the doors to the great halls as half-giant swung them open, first years behind him. Its eyes narrowed, watching them, knowing each of them would be in its class at some point. Considering the books Taran intended to have on hand, it would need a way to prevent younger students from getting their hands on them. Not precisely a simple task that lay before it, but hardly impossible either.

The proper charms and hexes on the bookshelves and possibly the books themselves would be enough, along with safeguards. Something to only allow certain years to acquire certain books, and to prevent one from being passed down by a less than trustworthy older student. No, that shouldn't be too terribly difficult now that it thought about it, however it would need to be done as soon as possible after the ceremony had come to an end.

Of course, if Taran didn't start paying more attention to what was happening the ceremony would end without it even realizing. Except Taran would likely be introduced, and even if it was in another world somewhere, that would bring back the relevance of the tangible. With that reassurance, Taran allowed its thoughts to resume their drifting, working over and toying with the exact combination of spells to be used in setting up the classroom's mini-library.

Taran finally was pulled back into the here-and-now not, as anticipated, by its name, but position. Which was actually a more fortunate scenario since that would mean it wouldn't have to mull over memory to get context.

"...Defense Against Dark Arts Professor must be welcomed. Taran Dilerd," was what it heard Dumbledore say.

Taran's only response was slightly lifting from its seat, giving enough of a nod so as to make shift in the position of its hood visible from across the great hall, and after that it began watching the students once more, noting reactions, fear, curiosity, whispering. It was all highly anticipated, even the reaction of certain Slytherins, who first seemed almost respectful albeit uncertain before shifting into glares as they observed Snape's readily apparent opinion.

Taran smirked at the whole scene laid out before it. No, it seemed the students would not be quick to trust their newest professor. Taran really couldn't blame them, after all, it would have reacted the same were it in their shoes.

o-o-0-o-o

The hallway was empty as Severus went along it, looking irritable enough that even the Slytherin's would have dared not attempt to talk to him. If looks alone were enough to kill, well, he'd be a Basilisk. Even with what he knew, what he'd told Dumbledore the man had insisted on hiring that...scum as a professor.

Severus froze at the sound of footfalls approaching from behind him, eyes narrowed icily as he turned and found himself facing Dilerd, well, well, what a surprise. He could make out distinctly the silver eyes through the shadows. "Hello Professor," he snarled coolly, doing his best to keep temper in check.

There was a flash of teeth beneath the cowl, a grin. "I believe we had some unfinished business in Diagon alley."

"Ah yes," replied Snape sharply, "I don't know how you managed to blind everyone else, but I see right through you Dilerd, and I'm going to be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh really, for who," was the sharp quip as the cloaked figure gestured at his arm, which despite it being covered he grabbed by reflex.

His glare was vicious now, if it weren't for Dilerd being a fellow professor his wand would have been out. "You must think yourself awfully clever, a wolf accepted by a shepherd as a pet, hmm?" He smiled, for all the control Dilerd had been mustering, he'd hit right into the weak point he'd anticipated, and the reaction was visible though small.

"I'm not going to let you betray us all," Severus finished after maintaining silent victory for just a moment. With that last statement he waited for Dilerd's reaction, resisting the temptation to stalk off and leave the professor to wonder what he knew. Turning his back could prove rather detrimental.

The response was long in coming and slow when it did. "How did you know," it was soft, but there was no attempt at concealing to it and it gave Severus a bit of a start to realize he was hearing Dilerd's true voice.

He didn't show that though, he just snorted, shaking his head, "You aren't as clever as you think."

With a distinct narrowing of silver eyes it was Dilerd that ended up stalking off, and Severus glared at the retreating back with a feeling of victory that lasted only a moment before Dilerd paused and spoke, voice concealed once more. "Nor are you, Professor, nor are you."

Severus's eyes narrowed more distinctly as the figure resumed its retreat. That might well have been an empty bluff on Dilerd's part, but if it wasn't... He shook his head, holding back a snarl and wishing more than ever that Dumbledore had listened to him.

o-o-0-o-o

Taran looked over the bookshelf with a critical eye, wand out, caught in a state of pure analytical thought. All the spells and their interactions would be utterly perfect or Taran would not sleep until it came up with a way to get the desired effect. It paced around the shelf before finally giving a simple nod and shoving the wand into a deep pocket of its cloak.

The bookshelf had allowed Taran to not dwell on the confrontation with Severus, that had not gone well at all. It was still curious how Snape knew, was yet more curious how much more the man knew. Then was the real question: Whose side was he on?

Taran paced the room, it had been quite sure it knew before then, but now... Taran shook its head, one hand tracing under hood and through hair. The greatest frustration Taran had with the situation was that no matter what it found out about Snape, or who it told, the man could return the favor. Taran closed its eyes; taking a moment to breathe and calm down.

The library was finished, the Snape situation was undeniably beyond its control. All it could do now was focus on teaching the class and not proving whatever Snape had told the headmaster to be true. Which, for the moment, meant it was time to get to bed so that it would be ready to deal with students when morning came..

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well, it's chapter three, waves little flags. Chapter four shouldn't be _too_ far behind... just gotta get it mauled by my beta readers before posting it. And umm, I won't keep up your time rambling.  



	4. For the Sake of First Impressions

The class sitting before Taran was restless and more than a little bit nervous. If this was how fourth years were acting, Taran could only imagine what the first years would do. It swore, if a student fainted it would drop the child in the hall and leave it. The temptation was there to even hand out a detention for such a disruption of class, but that seemed a little extreme, even to Taran.

"I would like to make notice," Taran began after clearing its throat to silence the few students with enough courage to talk before class started, "that I have made a small library based on years. You may check out any book for your year or below. However, it would be highly inadvisable to attempt the acquisition of a higher level book through anyone but myself. The only thing less advisable, in fact, would be to deliver a book to a student of lower level than designated for it. Am I understood?"

All the students could do in response was offer small nods in reply, looking to their friends about the room. There was some mumbling as a good many of them wondered just what sort of books Taran had in the classroom library that would warrant such a system. Then there were the scattered few that wondered if they could get past it. No, Taran couldn't hear them, but it knew they were there and it was just a matter of time until one discovered the base to its warning.

"Please understand these measures have been placed for your protection, do not test them or you will regret it. Now, open your text books to the first chapter, there is a bit I need to make sure you know before we begin our first lesson."

With that for an introduction Taran fell into the teaching like it did anything else, with a sort of absorption that could only be shaken by a major event. This particular class offered no interruptions, possibly having enough of a measure of sense to not cause reason for the teacher to start watching them on the very first day.

By the time the class had ended Taran found itself in good humor, ready to deal with more students, even questions, quite over anger and nervousness from its confrontation the night previous. Well, at least that was the case for the moment, having something to do other than brood on it was really the main factor.

In the time between classes, Taran sorted through various books, contemplating dropping the shadow charm from its hood for a bit perhaps but no, there would be no point. Besides, it would just have to be put back up in a few minutes before any students arrived.

Taran focused its gaze on the wall, a quill working around its fingers repeatedly, a feat that would likely have been much easier with a Muggle pen. The next students coming would be N.E.W.T. level, and all the houses combined. It was, after all, a significantly smaller class after fifth year had ended.

This would, no doubt, be where Taran would be focusing much of its energy, shortly followed by preparing the fifth years for their O.W.L.'s. However, to it, the war that had finally started, or perhaps resumed described the situation more accurately, took precedence over any test.

Most the students weren't even the focus, no, that would be Harry Potter, the one who had been prophesied as vanquisher of the Dark Lord. Taran knew more than it should about that, but that wasn't an uncommon sort of trend. It took a slow breath, focusing on the door as footfalls approached. That would be the first of the next class, no doubt.

Taran maintained half-observant vigilance on the door as the class filtered in. Many among them looked particularly snide, namely the Slytherin's. Somehow that was not a surprise, if their head of house hated Dilerd, then they would too, whether or not they knew the reason.

Taran's lip contorted into an unseen snarl. If any class were going to be disrupted today, this would likely be the one, however, since this point and on was not exactly compulsory for the students it would have no qualms removing one from the classroom permanently.

Once students had finished filtering in Taran stood, shifting its head so that each would know it had concentrated on them specifically. Fortunately this group reacted with more dignity than the fourth years, none paled and many looked defiantly back, almost challenging Taran to turn out to be a death eater.

"Welcome to your first year of N.E.W.T. level Defense Against Dark Arts. If you are here, it means you have already showed exceptional talent in this particular field and I offer my congratulations on that. However I also see it fit to provide warning that it only gets harder from here on out," Taran began, shifting without losing a beat, "And five points from Slytherin, if you continue it will include a detention." As it finished it stood, glaring down at Malfoy who had been miming, paying more attention to laughing with his friends than listening to the teacher.

When Malfoy had fallen begrudgingly silent, glaring but still silent, Taran walked away. "I have provided a library based on year, and I must tell you most importantly, especially to your level, do not, and I repeat, do NOT put books into the hands of students of lower levels. The consequences for said action will be dire I can assure you. I also recommend you not try and weasel a seventh year into giving you a book from that level, if you have need of it, ask me and I might consider it."

Taran paused, silver eyes narrowing visibly beneath the hood as it stared out at all the students. "I cannot emphasize enough that these books are not all exactly safe. I trust that at your level you can handle them, but I recommend utmost care even so."

Once again there was a pause, this one longer as Taran gauged the students. "I cannot help but notice that you do not trust me yet and can hardly blame you," amusement tinted its voice at that, "but, I still hope you will take what I teach to heart because it may prove to be your best defense against Voldemort in times to come."

Taran yet again paused, watching once more. It was not a name the students liked hearing, and yet some didn't even flinch, focused utterly on what it said. Of all the students, Potter and his friends seemed to react the least to it. Very good then, better than anticipated even, maybe it wasn't much, but it was easier to conquer fear of something if you could name it.

"I've managed to get information on former teachers this class has had, including an imposter of a former Auror. This teacher demonstrated to you the unforgivable curses, and in that, might have given himself away. Does anyone currently have an idea of how?"

There was a long moment of silence in the class. Finally a girl raised her hand and Taran simply pointed her way to acknowledge. "I know that the unforgivable curses take a level of will to hurt. Someone doing one would likely be showing it."

Taran shook its head slightly. "No, that's not quite the reason, but it leads to it. You see, Aurors had and still have permission to use those curses on Death Eaters, which says that they must be able to use them. However, I can't particularly see a successful Cruciatus curse being used for learning purposes. The Cruciatus curse takes a level of Sadism that even anger for a loss doesn't give. Hatred could do it, but the mere desire to instruct," it paused with a bit of a scoff, "never."

Taran raised an eyebrow just slightly as Potter shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. Not that anyone saw it, considering the substantial shadow the hood maintained. It was curious now, not doubting that Potter had known that last part from experience, what sort of experience, it couldn't help but wonder. Oh, it knew of Voldemort's attack on the ministry the previous year, it was details that it wanted, but had little chance of acquiring.

After a small pause Taran flashed a small grin, not caring that students likely wouldn't catch it. "So unless the man was deathly afraid of spiders, he was something other than what he seemed, which, in the end, he turned out to be."

Taran paused again, clearing its throat, this time only for a moment, "Now that I've covered that I'd like to see how you manage with Patronuses, I am aware this might seem advanced at this stage, but with the likelihood of Dementors on Voldemort's side, it would be best to be prepared."

Taran pulled its wand from a pocket, stepping a small distance back from the first line of student desks. "The Patronus charm requires dwelling on a significantly happy memory and speaking the incantation 'Expecto Patronus.' It will provide in its weaker form, a bit of a shield, which might guard you for a time. In its full-fledged form, however, it becomes something of a guardian that will not only hold the Dementors at bay, but quite likely run them off."

"Expecto Patronus," Taran uttered watching with a dark smile on its face, the light of the Patronus revealing the smile. The wolf that formed stalked the front of the classroom, hackles raised and teeth bared, a silent snarl echoing in Taran's mind. It let the Patronus pace the area in front of the desks just a moment before releasing it and letting the light flood back into its wand.

"Alright now, I am aware that at least one and likely multiple students in this room can do a corporeal Patronus, if you are in that category please form a line at the front of the classroom." Once the small line had formed Taran gave a bit of a nod. "You will demonstrate, I may be utilizing your assistance if I deem your Patronus sufficient." Taran moved a bit to the side and pointed at the first student. Its glare was obvious, hood or no as it waited.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Meh, I'm one beta reader short this time around, and it feels odd putting this up, but I rather wanted to get it up so I could get inspired to work on the next chapter. Be forgiving, whenever my final reader is around she'll help me fix up any problems that remain in this, which I'm sure that many do, and then I'll replace it.  



End file.
